


Downtime

by fleurlb



Category: The Killing
Genre: Gen, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 22:23:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1099277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurlb/pseuds/fleurlb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holder takes Linden out for some fun. Set a few weeks after the S3 finale, no spoilers though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Downtime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [evewithanapple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evewithanapple/gifts).



After a few weeks of radio silence from Linden, Holder took the ferry out to the island and drove up to her place. He knocked perfunctorily on the door, then walked into the house. He found her standing in the kitchen, chain-smoking and staring out the window.

He took in the small room, choked with smoke and overflowing with empty cereal boxes. "I love what you've done with the place."

"Shut up," Linden replied, but her words lacked heat and Holder spotted her trying to suppress a small smile. 

He left the room and returned with a windbreaker, which he pressed into her hands. "Let's go."

"Are you ordering me in an official capacity?"

"Official po-lice capacity? Nah. Official your-only-friend-in-the-world capacity? You bet your ass I am."

"I'm fine, Holder."

"No, Linden, you're not. Have you even felt the sun on your skin in the last month? You're white enough to scare a ghost."

"Holder-

"Nope, Casper, I'm not taking no for an answer. Now let's go."

Linden opened her mouth, but then closed it and sighed in resignation. "Fine, let's get this over with."

She followed him out to the car and settled into the passenger seat, where she sulked and stared out the window.

Holder tried to engage her but soon tired of getting no response. He let out a low whistle. "Tough crowd. Aight, suit yourself. Stew away, see if I care."

Holder drove in silence, wondering whether this little outing was going to break super bad. When he finally pulled into the nearly empty parking lot, he gave half-hearted jazz hands. "Tah-daaa."

Linder's eyes swept over the grinning moose and squirrel on the cheery sign. "Family Fun Center and Bullwinkle's Restaurant. Are you kidding me?"

"Hey now," warned Holder as he stepped out of the car. "They take fun very seriously here. They don't moose around."

Linden rolled her eyes and got out of the car, trailing Holder. 

"So here's what I'm thinking, let's start out slow, maybe with the bumper boats or batting cages, then work ourselves up to some real fun."

"Whatever," Linden replied.

"Hey, I'm just looking out for you. You probably haven't had fun in years. If you try to jump right into it, you're going to pull a muscle or something."

Linden put up her hands in surrender. "All right. Bumper boats."

Holder paid the money and led Linden down to the bumper boat pool. He picked a red boat, she took a yellow. They pedaled out into the pool, where a few kids were giggling and crashing into each other.

Holder pedaled over to Linden and nudged his boat into hers. She scowled, so he leaned over and splashed water right into her sour puss, then pedaled away.

"You bastard!" called Linden, furiously pedaling after him.

Holder grinned then yelped as she crashed into his boat. He spun around and tried to take a run at her, but she glided away. For 15 minutes, they chased and splashed and acted like total idiots until their time was up.

"Batting cages?" Holder asked.

Linden shrugged a shoulder.

"C'mon, you look like someone who really needs to hit something."

At the batting cages, Holder handed Linden a shiny silver bat and a dented blue batting helmet. He stood outside the cages, cat-calling and teasing her while she swung at pitch after pitch, hitting most of them. When she was done, her cheeks were pink and her face was shiny.

"Let's see what else they have," said Holder, taking it as a positive sign that Linden didn't protest.

Over by the Laser X-Treme area, Holder spotted a pack of frat boys getting suited up. He smiled at Linden.

"You wanna have a little fun?" He asked with a sly smile.

"Isn't that the whole point of this ridiculous outing?"

"Correct as usual, King Friday. Follow my lead."

He sauntered over to the frat pack and focus his attention on a sharp-jawed guy who had an expensive haircut and euro-trash sneakers.

"Yo, my man, what say we make this little shindig interesting."

"Excuse me?" asked the kid, fixing Holder with the sort of stare usually reserved for cockroaches.

"There's what, ten of you dudes? I'm willing to bet a grand that me and the shorty here can kick y'all's asses. How about it?" He felt Linden's elbow catch him sharply in the ribs, but he didn't react.

The dude looked from Linden to Holder, then glanced at the small army of eager bros behind him. "Hardly seems fair."

"You're right," conceded Holder. "Maybe we should spot you 500 points and pay you 2-1 if we lose."

The dude laughed and shook his head, then stuck out his hand. "You're on. I'm going to enjoy kicking your sorry ass."

Holder caught Linden's eyes and grinned. Inside the sprawling multi-room maze where the laser tag match took place, Holder and Linden worked quickly and methodically, their teamwork based on hand signals, intuition, and a bedrock of shared experiences that they could never change. Holder realized how much he missed this effortless ballet, but he pushed the feeling away and focused on shooting the cocky frat boys as many times as he could.

After the game, Holder made a show of counting their winnings, carefully turning all the bills so they faced the same way.

"Damn it, Holder, OCD much?" asked Linden.

"I was going to split it evensies with you, Linden, but you keep runnin' your mouth like that and I just might hafta change my mind."

Linden tried to shoot out another elbow, but Holder easily sidestepped her. "Damn girl, you're getting predictable in your old age. You need to get some new moves."

"How about a punch in the face?"

"Yeah, that'd work." He threw an arm around her shoulders. "Now c'mon, I got one more activity that you gotta do, then I'll release you on your own recognizance."

He led her over to the Screamin' Swing, a 70-foot metal contraption that would shoot them in a great swinging arc. 

She shook her head. "No way."

"This beauty, Linden, is gonna let you pull four, count 'em four Gs. You'll scream, but you'll love it. I say that to a lot of ladies but this time I mean it for reals."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her up to the ride. She reluctantly sat beside him. When the lap bar came down, she clutched it until her knuckles went white. 

Then the ride took off, slowly at first and then it picked up speed, swinging them back and forth. Holder felt his stomach jitterbugging, and he stole a look at Linden.

Her eyes were clenched tight and her mouth was open. He heard her scream, a low, keening mewl that gained in intensity as the ride quickened.

When the ride was over, Linden looked over at Holder. 

"Thank you," she said in a hoarse, husky whisper.

"De nada, partner, de nada," he replied.


End file.
